


Entirely too early for This Much Glitter

by GingerLocks



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: All three Caps are Captain America, Christmas, December 13th, F/M, Fluff, Random italian singing., St Lucia, Teacher Darcy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 09:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8839210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerLocks/pseuds/GingerLocks
Summary: Darcy went to visit Jane in Norway and came back with a weird, but beautiful Scandinavian tradition. Whatever makes Darcy smile like this is a very important new tradition for Bucky.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lara/gifts).



> This is a little Christmas fic that I wrote during Nanowrimo. I have written similar fics for different pairings in the past, because I just love this tradition and I wanna share it with as many as possible. Especially egged on am I not that SKAM has become so insanely popular and people actually wanna learn about Norwegian culture. 
> 
> I am gifting this to [ Lara](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lara/pseuds/Lara), who has been a wonderful beta (not for this though, don't blame her for these mistakes!) and a great friend and has some amazingly funny fics. I High Key recommend [this wintershock story](http://archiveofourown.org/series/384082) in particular :)

  
  
[gif sized to fit for mobile users]

  


“What is all this?” Bucky asked as he stepped into the living room. The couch and coffee table were covered with piles of white dresses, glitter garlands and aluminium foil. Smack dab in the middle of it was Darcy, wearing the hideous sweater that Thor had knitted for her last Christmas.

 “What?” Darcy asked distractedly as she tried to pack all of the mess into the two big bags on the floor next to her.

 “What do you mean; what? It is five oh three in the morning. It’s entirely too early for this much glitter!” He picked up a garland and quickly threw it away as if it was contaminated by the sparkle-plague and too long exposure would lead to bedazzled outfits… Tony  _ had _ threatened him. 

 “I know, I know, but I was entirely too distracted last night, by  _ you _ I might add, so I completely forgot to get this out of storage! You have yourself to blame, mister.” She looked up from the bag she had managed to zip, glaring at him over the rim of her glasses, before turning to the next bag, only to look around and see that she had barely packed half of it. She looked at him for help, he just crossed his arms over his chest. 

 “Alright then, partially your fault at least.” She waved her hand to dismiss the whole blame-game and started gathering up all the glitter instead. “Why are you up anyway, even  _ you _ don’t get up until after five thirty. Everything alright?” She paused in her manic packing to look at him, eyes filled with concern, thinking he might have had another nightmare. He huffed and rolled his eye, letting her know that was not the case. 

 “Well there was this strong smell coming from the kitchen and it smelled like you messed up some cinnamon buns. Did you forget cinnamon?” His gaze wandered over to the kitchen, he was hungry as hell, and the smell of food never failed to wake him up or distract him mid conversation. 

 “My Lucia-buns are not messed up, I followed the recipe to the letter and they are supposed to smell that way… and be that yellow. I think.” She forced the glitter into one of the side pockets of the bag and started wrapping the candles in newspaper to ensure they would not break.

 “Lucia-buns?”

 “It’s this tradition they have in Scandinavia.”

“Thor show it to you? Or?”

“Nah, I learned about this during those weeks I spent with Jane in Norway last winter. Distracting her from studying the aurora borealis and its effects on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge by forcing her to endure Norwegian Christmas spirits.”

“You mean spirit?”

“Nah, the aquavit was flowing, for the record; it tasted horrible without the fatty Christmas food.” 

Bucky laughed, remembering her telling him about it in her half drunk voicemail. He’d been on a mission himself and wasn’t able to spend Christmas with her. This was their first Christmas together although, technically, their third anniversary was only two weeks later. He looked at the mess in his living room and frowned, realising what she might be up to. 

 “Oh, are you going to-“ but he didn’t get to finish talking as Darcy dragged him to the kitchen to show her these amazing Lucia-buns.

 “Wow.” Was all he could manage to say, the buns were yellow and twirled or knotted together to make cute little designs and decorated with raisins, but the biggest factor to taking his breath away, was because they were  _ everywhere _ . He was seriously in awe of his girlfriend as she took out, what he guessed must be, the fifth batch and put a new tray in the oven.

 “What are you going to do with all these? Feed the whole damn school?”

 “Well, yeah.”

He looked at all the buns and all the dresses, and glitter, and candles, and then he sighed. “Lucky for you; I have the day off, unless somebody decides to take over the world this close to Christmas. What do you need help with?”

 “You’re the best, honey!” Darcy exclaimed as she threw herself into his arms and kissed him all over his face. “Now please go get the rest of the glitter garlands and shove them into any space you can find in those bags,” she commanded him, turning to put the Lucia-buns in the big baskets on the dining table. He sneaked five of them on the way out, they actually weren’t that bad. 

 

*

 

At eight o’clock all the glitter was packed, the small glitter strands removed from between the plates on his metal hand, the buns were baked, they had both showered and managed to fit everything into her tiny car. He was impressed. 

They were making good time, and didn’t even get agitated as they had to shovel snow out of the driveway and de-ice the car. It was the coldest winter in years, with record snow. Darcy had been quite opinionated on the whole situation, flip-flopping between cooing at the beautiful Christmas mood the snow put her in, and cursing the inconvenience of it to hell. He was less excited about the snow, remembering the slush in his army boots, the cold of cryo, the many months training and killing in cold terrain. But cuddling up with his girl with a huge mug of hot coffee made him alter his view a little bit, safely inside the thermo-windows. .

 “So,” he asked as he drove the car to the school Darcy had worked at ever since she quit her job with Jane, “what is this Lucia-thing anyway?”

 “It’s a Scandinavian tradition. Back during the Great Persecution the Christians were hiding in the catacombs in Italy and Saint Lucia braved her life to sneak down there and feed them as they would be killed if they came out.

 “So, basically, the extremeness of life and death has been taken away, and the kids all walk around to the other classrooms and the nursing homes instead of the catacombs. And they hand out the Lucia-buns to everyone there while they sing the Lucia-song and I voluntarily stress myself out with taking care of twenty kids who all carry burning candles.”

 “Ok...”

 “Hey, don’t be mister negative! When I first saw this thing, and I  _ wasn’t _ in charge, it was beautiful! The buns and the candles and the boys wearing dresses and all the glitter!”

He glanced at her quickly, he was driving in the middle of winter after all, and could see that little smile she had when she was feeling almost nostalgic. And there were not a lot of things she had to feel nostalgic about. The moment he saw that smile, he decided that Lucia was a  _ very _ important day. No matter how silly it sounded, he would indulge her in every aspect of it, as long as she fell asleep at night with that smile on her lips.

 “So why is this a Scandinavian tradition… when it’s an Italian Saint?”

 “Well, they used to believe that the winter solstice was on this day and when Christianity came to the North they mixed their traditions up with the ancient traditions. I mean they really mixed it up, thinking Lucia was another name for Lucifer and all that, and then they made the holiday all about light banishing dark creatures. It really is beautiful though… again; when you’re not in charge.”

 “But you are,” he pointed out.

 “You know I roped you into this because I needed extra adult supervision, right?” She smirked as he parked the car.

And Bucky understood completely. Because as he helped dress her pupils in the white robes, with various complaints like “they’re dresses!” and “‘m not a girl!” or “Lisa’s crown is bigger than mine!” Bucky grew to look at Darcy’s profession with more wonder and awe than before. He would have completely shut himself off from the world if he had to deal with this everyday on top of all the shit the Avengers stirred. Honestly, some of these nine year olds were way more mature than his team.

And it  _ was _ beautiful. Twenty kids, dressed in pure white cloaks and hair entwined with glitter walking through the dark morning while precariously holding candles or baskets of Lucia buns and singing. The girls in the front were wearing beautiful crowns of (battery powered) candles, leading the procession from classroom to classroom with Darcy running ahead to switch the lights off.

When they returned, Bucky had to put aside any thought of how beautiful it all was, in order to help Darcy help the children out of their robes and collecting candles and aid in untying  all the shoelaces. All the while answering the billion questions that the pupils were asking him.

 “What’s your favourite colour?”

 “Are you and Darcy married?”

 “Are you a prince?”

 “Do you love Darcy?”

 “Are you the Captain America who flies?!”

 “Have you ever been to Italy?”

The questions were endless and seemingly random, but he found that just giving simple answers would keep them satisfied.

 “Blue.”

 “No.”

 “No.”

 “Yes, I do.”

 “No, I’m not Falcon.”

 “Yes, five times.”

Finally it was time to go home, and after following half of the kids to homework club, and making sure they got all their scarves and mittens and hats, they were alone in her classroom only half an hour later.

 “Oh golly, when these kids were first years, it took me twice as long to get them out the door. And I even had a tutor help me!”

“You say the cutest things when you have to censor your language.”

“Fudge you.”

 

They made their way back home, thoroughly exhausted and eager for some cuddling. At least that was how Darcy put it.

“I wish we had traditions like Lucia in America,” Darcy sighed.

“I can imagine you with one of those crowns, singing off key,” Bucky smiled at her, she snorted.

“I was way too cheeky and I never did my homework, so my teacher would never let me be the Lucia.”

 “That’s just mean.”

 “Well, I never liked that teacher, and I swore I’d end up as different as her as possible.”

 “Congratulations, love.” He smiled and parked the car, leaning over to kiss her sweetly, “And happy Lucia-day.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, and she smiled, telling him that he didn’t have to wish her a happy Lucia-day, but he kissed the smirk off her lips.

 

...and they found out just how cold a car could get, as they hastily dressed and exited it half an hour later.

 

*

 

The next year it was Bucky who was up at the crack of dawn, bustling with glitter and candles and capes.

 “What on earth are you doing?” Darcy asked as she entered the kitchen to find him cursing over a tray of half burned Lucia-buns.

 “Darce, you are not supposed to wake up yet!”

 “You don’t have to tell me that, I am well aware,” she said, crossing her arms over the swell of her stomach, “The whole point of my maternity leave was that I would not have to deal with all this at six in the morning!”

Bucky looked sheepishly at the floor, looking adorable in her flowery apron and reindeer oven mittens. 

 “I have a briefing with Sam and Steve in an hour and I just wanted to give you something first.” He muttered as his, heavily pregnant and extremely scary, girlfriend glared at him.

Her eyes softened and she let her arms wrap around her stomach instead, making her look a lot less intimidating and giving Bucky all the all-clear to continue.

 “Close your eyes,” he told her and ran into the living room, gathering the big white cloak and some glitter, he quickly put it on her and tied the glitter around her ribs (as the waist was no longer the smallest part of her torso) and put the electric-candle crown on her head. When he was happy with the result, he started singing, bringing the high pitch of the song down to a bit more manageable one.

 

_ Sul mare luccica l’astro d’argento; _

_ Placida è l’onda prospero il vento. _

_ Venite all’agile barchetta mia _

_ Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia _

 

Darcy slowly opened her eyes and smiled, he was just about to start the second verse of the song, that he had spent a whole damn day learning, when Darcy started crying.

 “Darcy, Darcy-Doll, what’s wrong?”

Her answer was rather high pitched and slurred as she threw herself into his arms, but he understood her anyway.

 “You made Lucia-day for me! I can’t believe you did this to me. I love you, you stupid, wonderful man.”

And he held onto her, enjoying the feeling of both his Darcy and their unborn child in his arms, and thinking of the ring he’d bought her yesterday, safely hid away with Steve, and deemed himself the happiest man on earth.

 

*  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Svart senker natten seg  
> I stall og stue  
> Solen har gått sin vei,  
> Skyggene truer  
> Inn i vårt mørke hus  
> Stiger med tente lys,  
> Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia
> 
> Thank you for reading!!  
> Leave a comment if you want :)   
> As always I am [foreverdrunkatheart](http://www.foreverdrunkatheart.tumblr.com) and [hannahsfandos](http://www.hannahsfandos.tumblr.com) on tumblr, come fangirl with me!


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